


Don't touch the art

by yuraxchan



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Illegal Activities, M/M, Mentions of Sex, bartender!hansol, gafitti artists!au, mentions of alcohol and drug use, tattoo artist!taeil
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-02
Updated: 2016-08-02
Packaged: 2018-07-28 23:48:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7661941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yuraxchan/pseuds/yuraxchan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This boy had been hitting on him for weeks, always keeping his hood on as he walked into the club to ask for Hansol’s number, hoping the bartender would say ‘yes’ at some point.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don't touch the art

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [NCTprompts](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/NCTprompts) collection. 



> **Prompt:**  
> 
> After a one night stand with a graffiti artist, Hansol is shocked to come across a mural of himself naked.

Hansol didn’t know how or why it happened, but it did. This boy had been hitting on him for weeks, always keeping his hood on as he walked into the club to ask for Hansol’s number, hoping the bartender would say ‘yes’ at some point. He didn’t. Countless times, Hansol politely rejected him, pretexting work ethic, smiling tightly as he tried to ignore his feeling of guilt. Yet, the boy continued to ask him for his number. 

He wasn’t disrespectful about it, which was actually odd in Hansol’s opinion, and it made it harder for him to reject him. The boy—more often than not dressed with blank skinnies, a low white tank top full of colorful paints and the same black hoodie—only sagged against the counter, asked for a drink, paid and casually asked for Hansol’s number.

“Can I have your number?” he would inquire, smiling coyly. He seemed confident, borderline arrogant—and Hansol had to admit it rubbed him the wrong way at the beginning, before he chastised himself for judging someone he didn’t know so quickly—but the way his eyes glinted, his eyes pupils expanding as he looked at Hansol’s face in expectation made him reconsider his first impression. As days passed, Hansol started to see him in a different light.

Hansol’s reply was always the same, “I’m sorry, I can’t.” The boy’s face never changed, perhaps he was hiding his disappointment and frustration well or perhaps he didn’t care that much, then a small silence would linger before he would nod and whisper a quiet “okay, maybe next time” before leaving. He often came alone, but Hansol had seen him come with friends before.

They looked as intriguing as him—yes, Hansol was indeed curious about the boy; one wore way too many piercings, winking at Hansol from afar as he nudged his friend to go talk to him, another looked like a model, watching Hansol like a hawk and nodding in approbation, and then there was the last one, a small guy who looked innocent and angelic. Hansol wasn’t dumb though, he probably wasn’t as innocent as he appeared to be if he was friends with that bunch of weird guys stalking Hansol.

Honestly, Hansol didn’t know what pushed him to do it but one night, as he felt more tired and vulnerable than usual, lonelier too, he didn’t reject the boy. He still didn’t give him his number though. What he did was worse, bolder, very unlike him. Shy Hansol who stuttered in front of strangers and always appeared confused, more often than not lost in his own bubble _, this Hansol_ was no more.

“My shift ends in two,” he blurted out before the boy could even open his mouth, blinking rapidly. “Your drink is on me,” he added before quickly shying away from the boy’s incredulous gaze. Hansol’s heart was beating like crazy and he felt stupid for his action, but he couldn’t turn back in time now. He already made a move, it was too late to backtrack. Perhaps he worried for nothing, perhaps the boy would leave and reject him—Hansol wouldn’t blame him.

He didn’t.

Exhausted after his shift, Hansol grabbed his bag and wiped the sweat that gathered on his forehead before heading for the door. Walking slowly, eyes on the floor, he only stopped, startled, when shoes appeared in his line of vision once he was outside. Hansol’s head snapped up in surprise and he gawped at the sight of the boy. “Hey,” he said, grinning, pushing his hood away. Hansol stared. The boy was way hotter than he imagined—it must have been the hood, he supposed. Besides, Hansol had never clearly seen his face because of the feeble lights of the club.

“Hey,” he breathed, nervous now. He gripped his bag harder, inwardly panicking.

The boy looked amused, his smile widening. “Are you freaking out?”

“Yes.” Damn. No filter today.

“I’m Yuta by the way,” he offered, lifting a hand to grab Hansol’s bag, gently prying his fingers away from the strap. “Lead the way?”

Hansol nodded, gulping loudly, and motioned for him to follow him. He felt self-conscious, feeling Yuta’s gaze on him as they walked side by side in silence. He could only throw him shy glances from time to time, blushing when his eyes met Yuta’s. It wasn’t awkward though, at least Yuta didn’t look phased by Hansol’s nervousness which was a good sign.

When they arrived at Hansol’s flat, Yuta gave him back his bag and dropped his hoodie on Hansol’s desk chair. His tank top was full of paint today too and Hansol wondered if it was a design of some sort but he didn’t dare to ask. Toeing off his shoes, Yuta watched him intently as he unbuckled his belt. Hansol stood frozen, unable to keep his eyes off the boy, licking the corner of his mouth as Yuta undressed silently in front of him. He didn’t wear any underwear and Hansol nearly screamed at the sight of his nude body. He didn't, it would have been very embarrassing. Instead, he let his eyes roam freely, taking in Yuta’s well defined torso, muscled thighs and half hard cock.

The bartender was still fully clothed as Yuta stood naked, with only his socks on, looking unabashed and at home. Hansol inhaled sharply. Yuta was really hot. Like, super duper hot. And he seemed to know it, confidently standing in the nude in front of a stranger. Hansol was impressed, and a little jealous.

“Aren’t you going to undress?” Yuta tilted his head to the side, curious. “That’s why you wanted me here, right?”

Nodding mutely, Hansol looked down at his own body and took his clothes off too, starting from his pants. His breath hitched when Yuta padded towards him, helping him out of his dress shirt. He undid the buttons one by one and splayed his palms flat on Hansol’s chest before sliding the fabric down his shoulders and arms, letting it fall at their feet. Licking his too dry lips, Hansol’s eyes darkened as Yuta pushed his boxers down.

Tongue tied, Hansol didn’t even complain as Yuta guided him to lie on the floor, ignoring the bed behind them. Yuta didn’t kiss him on the mouth, not even once, but his lips didn’t leave any patch of skin untouched on Hansol’s body.

 

 

Hansol woke up alone and still on the floor. He grimaced, his back aching, but felt grateful that Yuta covered him with a blanket and put a pillow under his head. How thoughtful, he thought dryly. He felt good though, better than he had in days, more relaxed. He grinned like a lovesick fool, remembering the warmth of Yuta’s hands on his skin, his feather-like kisses, his breath against his neck tearing off shivers along Hansol’s spine. It all felt so good. He should have done this earlier. Getting laid, that is.

Honestly, in Hansol’s mind, it was a one-time thing. Yuta obtained what he wanted, one night with Hansol, and that was it. He would probably stop coming to the club to ask for Hansol’s number now. Well, that’s how Hansol imagined the situation would play out until he saw Yuta’s drawing; in the street that leaded to the club he worked at, against the façade of said club, a huge graffiti of himself— in all his naked glory—was painted. His eyes widening, Hansol gasped audibly, not believing what he was seeing.

His face was clearly recognizable too, there was no way people wouldn’t know it was him. Flustered, Hansol avoided eyes contact with the people surrounding him, walking quickly to get into the club, his ears bright red. He couldn’t believe it. He slept _one time_ with a guy and the day after his body and face were painted in the middle of the street for everyone to see. What a joke. Hansol wasn’t mad per se, just very embarrassed. He was usually shy and wasn’t comfortable talking to strangers so it must come to a shock to his coworkers and clients to see a naked graffiti of him.

The appreciative glances he received, the teasing, the winks and the flirty attitude of the people around him were making him flush and stutter and mess up while doing his job. Some lewd comments were also cringe worthy but he tried to ignore them as best as he could. Work ethic. _Yes_ , work ethic, he thought.  Concentrating on his job, Hansol put on a confident front and smiled pleasantly for the rest of his shift, silently enduring the pain.  

Until Yuta pushed the door of the club.

Hansol nearly dropped the glass he was holding when he recognized the hoodie. He offered the glass to the client, his eyes not leaving Yuta as he made his way to the bar. “Same as usual,” he said, smiling. Today, he sat on a stool and stared at Hansol’s every move while he prepared the beverage. “So, can I have your number now?” he tried innocently.

Hansol furrowed his eyebrows, confused. “Why?” He didn’t understand why Yuta was still here, trying to get his number, for the umpteenth time. Hansol had already given him what he wanted, wasn’t it enough?

“Well, isn’t it obvious?” Yuta inquired, laughing heartily. “To take you on a proper date. I’ve been trying for the past three months, but you’re a hard nut to crack. Though, I didn’t know you were the type to sleep before the first date. Obviously, I’ve read you wrong.”

Hansol grew more and more uncomfortable as Yuta kept talking, getting red in the face. He hoped no one was listening to their conversation.   

“Not that I’m complaining.” He winked, undressing Hansol with his eyes.

“I’m not,” he began, uneasy. “I don’t usually do that. Sleep around, I mean.”

“I gathered that much,” Yuta grinned fondly. “You were kinda tensed, and you let me do all the work.”

Hansol groaned, hiding his face in his hands. “Please, don’t.” The truth was that Hansol was as nervous in bed as he was in his daily life. He didn’t know how to act, was self-conscious of his body, and would rather stay motionless than fuck it up by messing up. His clumsiness was no joke and he still didn’t know how he could land his job as a bartender. He would surely have elbowed Yuta in the face and ruined the mood if he had tried anything.  

Pushing Hansol's hands away from his face, Yuta peered at him. “I liked it.” He licked his lips, adding a soft “I really enjoyed our night together.”  

“I’ve seen that…” Hansol mumbled under his breath.

“Oh, you saw it?” Yuta beamed. “When you fell asleep, I’ve watched you for hours, trying to memorize your face and your body. Then, I left but I couldn’t stop thinking about you, about how your body felt underneath me, how warm your skin was, how your abs contracted when I sucked you off…” Hansol let out a whimper, looking around to make sure no one heard _that_. Yuta chuckled at his reaction. “I had to draw you.”

Hansol bit the inside of his cheek. “B-But why?”

“Because you’re beautiful,” Yuta shrugged. “Since the first time I’ve seen you from the window, I’ve wanted to draw you.”

“Did you have to draw me on the wall in the middle of the street though? And naked?” Hansol shout-whispered, embarrassed.

Pouting, Yuta gently touched his arm. “Are you mad?”

Shaking his head, Hansol sighed. “It’s not that. Isn’t it illegal though?”

Smirking, Yuta’s eyes sparkled in glee under the lights of the club. “Maybe.” His hand lingered on Hansol’s upper arm, squeezing it lightly. “After all I’ve done for you, including risking my ass to be put in jail, and since you don’t want to give me your number, can I have a date at least?”

Hansol hesitated. Would it be okay? Yuta seemed serious, and as crazy as he sounded, he looked like he genuinely wanted to get to know Hansol. Perhaps he could give him a chance. Just when he was ready to open his mouth to reply, some guy, one of Yuta's friends Hansol reckoned, materialized behind Yuta, putting his arm around his shoulders.

“Man, he’s way hotter in real life…” the guy grinned, letting his eyes roam over Hansol’s body without shame. “And up close. Congrats lover boy!”

“Ten!” Yuta groaned, shrugging his friend's arm off his shoulders. “We were talking.”

“Look, the squad is tired to wait for your ass outside every other day.” Ten grumbled, arching one eyebrow. “Can’t your muse join us later?” he asked, looking at Hansol’s confused face.

Yuta looked at Hansol too. “Do you want to come?” He sounded unsure for once, which was surprising.  

“Okay,” Hansol heard himself say.

Yuta’s eyes widened, visibly stunned by his response. “Then, I’ll come and get you.”

Nodding, Hansol smiled shyly and watched them leave. His smile fell as soon as he was alone and he let out a pitiful whine. What did he do?! Why couldn’t he reject Yuta now, like he did for the past three months? Flashes of his night with Yuta came to his mind and he groaned. Okay, maybe _that_ explained a lot, but still. Of course his brain wouldn’t cooperate, _of course_. Hansol didn’t know why he acted in such an unconventional way. It’s not like he was in love with the guy, jeez.

 

 

Yuta was waiting for him at the end of his shift, as promised. He smiled and grabbed his bag, and Hansol let him. It felt strangely domestic, but Hansol would rather not look too much into things. They didn’t talk as they walked, Hansol following Yuta blindly. They stopped in front of an abandoned house and Hansol felt a chill ran down his spine. Usually, following a stranger to some abandoned house wasn’t the best decision one could make. He hoped he would make it out alive.

A group of guys were gathered around a table, sitting on two used couches, talking loudly, drinking beer and smoking weed. Yuta motioned for Hansol to get closer. “Guys, this is Hansol.” He said, then pointed at each guy. “This is Ten, you’ve met him earlier, next to him is Johnny, and the last one is Taeil.”

“Hi,” Hansol greeted them nervously. “Nice to meet you, I guess.”

“Ten was right, he’s way sexier up close!” Johnny commented, smirking. “I wish I’d seen you sooner than Yuta.”

Chuckling, Ten butted in. “Technically, he’s not Yuta’s.”

“Yet.” Yuta added sweetly, battling his eyelashes. If he didn’t know better, Hansol would think he was jealous but he doubted Yuta was interested in him like that. He was surely joking around.

“Anyway, welcome to our meeting point.” Taeil intervened, grinning. “I have to agree with the guys though, your drawing didn’t give him justice at all, Yu.” Hansol looked down at the floor, flushing at the praise. “He would be even hotter with a nipple piercing.” Taeil continued, studying Hansol. “Or a tribal tattoo on his arm…” he trailed off, his smile looking a little strange now. “Look at those guns, I can’t wait to get my hands on them.”

“Your hands won’t go anywhere near his body.” Yuta snapped. “Without his consent I mean,” he added sheepishly, embarrassed by his own outburst.

Taeil smirked, his eyes flashing. “I see.”

Hansol should have felt creeped out that they were discussing his appearance like this, in his face too, but he didn’t. It was a little weird, sure, but they were complimenting him so he wasn’t going to complain. It flattered his ego. Yuta and him sat with the guys and he accepted the beer they offered him but rejected the weed. Hansol learnt that Taeil was a tattoo artist—which explained his strange behavior and creepy comments on his body—and that Yuta, Johnny and Ten were graffiti artists.

“Yuta called dibs on you that night when we passed by your club,” Johnny admitted quietly, making sure the concerned wasn’t listening to them. “I think it was love at first sight, aesthetically speaking I mean. Well, now I’m not sure what’s up between you two, but since he drew you, you must have got under his skin pretty badly.” He chuckled. “That, or you’re a good lay.”

Blushing, Hansol fidgeted. “I don’t know. I just thought he wanted to sleep with me.”

“He did.” Johnny snickered. “He couldn’t shut up about you. He was frustrated you kept rejecting him.”

“No, I mean, I thought he only wanted to sleep with me. I didn’t know he was an artist.” Hansol replied.

“If he had told you, would you have said yes earlier?” Johnny inquired, curious.

“Perhaps.” Hansol shrugged. “If he wanted to draw me that badly…”

Johnny’s stare was unnerving and Hansol felt small under his gaze. “What?”

“You don’t get it, do you?” he snorted, incredulous.

“Get what?” Hansol was confused.

Shaking his head, Johnny avoided answering his question. “Never mind.”

 

 

Hansol got to see the guys work that night. They waited until it was pitch dark before starting. They chose a dark alley, making sure they would be safe since Hansol was with them tonight.

“Usually, we choose roofs or large streets, but it would be too dangerous with you,” Yuta explained.

Hansol felt guilty, but also grateful they went out of their way to make sure he would be safe. He watched them draw for the next three hours, sitting on the floor and hiding his yawn with his hands. They finally stopped around 5AM, a beautiful scenery of a beach now painted on the wall. It was very pretty, and romantic. They made sure not to leave their empty spray paints on the floor, carefully putting them back in their bags, and sat down next to Hansol to admire their work.

“What do you think?” Ten asked, looking exhausted but proud.

“I like it a lot,” Hansol replied softly. “I feel like I’m sitting on the sand watching the sea.”

Johnny snorted. “You’re high.”

Smiling sleepily, Hansol shook his head. “I’m not, it’s really nice.” He turned his head when he felt Yuta stare at him, and sent him a questioning look. Smiling, Yuta shook his head and faced their painting.

They stayed silent for a few minutes until Ten and Johnny decided to leave, but not without sending Hansol and Yuta knowing looks. “Kids,” Yuta snorted, waving them off. He offered to carry Hansol back home, and the bartender accepted. When they passed by the club, Hansol was sad to see Yuta’s drawing gone. He felt a twinge of disappointment at the freshly painted white wall.  

“Are you okay?” he prodded gently, worried about Yuta’s reaction.

“It happens all the time.” Yuta smiled, seemingly unaffected. “I took a picture of it. Besides, I have a good memory. I could draw you with my eyes closed.”

Humming, Hansol didn’t look convinced. “And if you forget?”

“Then I’ll have to look at your pretty face a little more.” Yuta teased, nudging him.

“What about the rest of my body?” Hansol taunted, daring. Perhaps it was because of the alcohol, the weed he unconsciously inhaled, or the exhaustion, but he felt fearless, freer and more alive. Like the world belonged to him, like he was invincible, walking side by side with Yuta in an empty street at such an ungodly hour.

Stopping in his tracks, Yuta grabbed his wrist and tugged him close. Hansol gasped when their chest collided. “I’ll have to undress you, like I did yesterday night. I’ll peel your clothes off piece by piece, drink in the sight of your gorgeous body and print it in my memory.” His mouth was hovering on Hansol’s, his breath hitting the bartender’s lips which made his heart beat faster.

“Yeah?” he asked shakily.

“Yeah,” he parroted. “But for now, I’ll kiss you. Is that okay?”

Hansol wetted his lips and let his eyelashes flutter close as Yuta’s lips found his. Yuta’s hand cupped his cheek and he pressed himself closer, Hansol melting against him as the kiss became more heated.

“Does it mean you like me?” Hansol inquired softly, in a daze.

Yuta chuckled, his knuckles brushing his cheek. “You’re a bit slow.” Hansol pouted, scrunching his nose. “Of course I like you, do you really think I would have gone through all those painful rejections if I didn’t?”

“I’m sorry,” the bartender mumbled, looking down at the floor.

“Don’t be,” Yuta pecked his lips once more. “I like to live dangerously.”

Lacing their fingers together, Hansol was the one who leaned in to catch his mouth in a bruising kiss this time.

 

 

“Would you let me borrow your boyfriend?” Taeil asked innocently. “For art purpose, of course.”

Yuta threw him an unimpressed look. “His whole body is mine. Don’t touch the art.”

Snorting, Johnny sent a sympathetic look in Taeil’s direction. “You should know better than to mess with Yuta’s artwork. Look, but don’t touch.”

**Author's Note:**

>  **Fanart:**  
> 
> [Fanart by @cocopiart](https://twitter.com/cocopiart/status/765947208353054722) Thank you bb ♥ Please go check her out :D


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